


Good

by lisslynae



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Why Christmas Special Trailer, Why?, post-Death in Heaven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-19
Updated: 2014-11-19
Packaged: 2018-02-26 06:57:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2642432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisslynae/pseuds/lisslynae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Per the Christmas Special trailer, the Doctor returns to Clara. Clara has changed a bit, and he has not changed at all. They've both lied and lived with it, so everything is good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good

She had wanted, maybe, to keep the little boy. It would have meant more lies, more quick thinking, and maybe more manipulation. It would not have been good. But he had family, and Clara was ready to admit that if he was with his family and saw war, they could be more honest about it then she could, about the war that he would see her fight. She was no one’s teacher anymore, and had joined UNIT in a rush of white-hot fury. She and Kate became a team. She had kept the Mistress from destroying the earth because she had loved. Next time, it would be because she was prepared. The vortex manipulator is agonizing, and no one ever knows it, because that is what is needed. It has been three weeks for Kate, and a year for her, and she can see it in her eyes when she looks in the mirror. She wants to hate what she has become, but she cannot, because she was becoming this long before Danny died and the Doctor went to his long-lost home. She meets an echo of herself, and they share tea, and there are no lines in her echoes eyes. She sees River again. “The Doctor lies.” She tells her. Clara smiles bitterly, because this time, the companion lied. The timelines are mixed, and this encounter is what she realizes River was thinking about when they first met. She touches the older woman's arm, gentle (deceptive) because it is good advice. (Too late). 

Christmas was mandatory time off, Kate insisted. Clara did not want to decorate, or celebrate. Instead she slipped up to the roof with the present she had gotten Danny months ago, and, though she went to throw them, she wound the scarf around her neck, and pulled the leather cap over her ears. The gloves swallowed her hands and she yanked them off, stuffing them angrily into the chimney. The Doctor’s present was still in her closet, in TARDIS blue paper. It would, probably, have made him angry, because it was from the 51st century, and he probably would not have approved of her hopping off through time fetching trinkets. It had not been her only reason for being there, but she had seen it, a pocket watch that looked older than time, and had not been able to resist. It still ticked, loudly, too, and she had resorted to wrapping it in scarves to keep her from waking up. She actually thought about taking it out. Using it, throwing into the street, selling it; anything but hearing the passage of time. Then there were people on her roof; rude, laughing elves, an obnoxious Father Christmas, and, suddenly the Doctor, and as she slid against the console in angry realization, she still did not believe in fairytales, and jolly Old St. Nick would have nothing for her if he actually knew anything at all. 

She knew she was right as soon the Doctor stepped in the door. But she could lie if he could.

“How is P.E? Is he going to be angry if I take you off? Just a bit, you know. Mad elves, can’t leave you here anyway.”

The Scottish was more pronounced.

“Yeah. Danny and I are great. He won’t miss for a while, he’s off tonight, and I didn’t want to mess up his family traditions.” She felt a moment of extreme malice. “And Gallifrey? King yet? Isn’t it dangerous to hop back?”

A smile was worse than a hug. He had no idea, and shrugged. “Fine, not so dangerous to come back. And we don’t have kings.”

She pushed the vortex manipulator further up her wrist, so he could not see it. She wandered around the console room. Hardly anything was moved, and she talked softly to the TARDIS. A few days with a telepathic alien had taught her a bit, and the TARDIS chirped almost happily when she apologized. He stared at her.

“Only a few months, right?” His brows were doing exactly what they did when he could not quite put pieces together.

“Yeah.” she shrugged. “It’s Christmas Eve.” she tugs at the hat, but leaves it on. “This was Danny’s present. How long for you?”

He shrugs awkwardly. Not long. He mutters something about “a while.”

“Days or weeks, Doctor.” she finally asks. “Don’t start lying to me.” Start, like he had not before, or had stopped.

“A week. Or two. I miscalculated.” he admits stiffly. “Gallifrey…”

She moved more deliberately now. She knew she looked trained, but just pulled her jacket and the hat off. She left the scarf.

“Over a year.” she says, thrusting the wrist with the vortex manipulator into his field of vision. “I’ve bounced around a bit. Danny sent a little boy that he had killed back.” 

The eyebrows are angry, hurt, and confused as he pokes at the manipulator half-heartedly. “This thing is awfully old. Dangerous, too. And it hurts.” he accused as he looked critically at her.

She fell into a seat. “Just a bit.” she insisted. (It ripped her to pieces, turned her inside out, and slammed her back together.) “Some things are necessary. Dr. Song says hello.” 

She pulled out a smile that had served her in and out of everything from the Sheriff of Nottingham to the prison chambers of Mahal, which she was not going to mention, since she pulled his future self out too. “Anyway. Evil elves? Crazy Father Christmas? Where are we headed?” Her face became more somber. “We’re good. We’re going to save Christmas.”

He stopped looking at her like she was a sideshow. “Right, good.” He patted her on the head, and moved to the console, muttering about elves from Alfheim. 

It was not good, not really, not that it ever had been or would be. But it was a good lie.


End file.
